


The Innocent Flower

by random_pairings_50113



Series: Switched AU [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Erica, BAMF Lydia Martin, F/M, Gen, Human Derek Hale, Human Hale Family, Werewolf Allison Argent, Werewolf Kate Argent, Werewolf Sheriff Stilinski, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, hunter lydia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 00:36:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8469034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/random_pairings_50113/pseuds/random_pairings_50113
Summary: Lydia Martin is the most reluctant teen supernatural hunter ever. At the same time, she's also the best. Her mom approaches her on her fifteenth birthday and tells her that everything she's ever feared - werewolves, vampires, monsters, witches - are all real. And a very real threat.Unfortunately for Lydia, she really can't care less about collective evil, or innocent people. She's never been religious, or superstitious; she believes in science, and that's what she wants to believe in. That what she wants to focus on, and she certainly does not want a life-long career in chasing down the bad guys. So when her mom announces they're moving to Beacon Hills, which is riddled with werewolf history and mythology, in an attempt to help Lydia become more associated with her fate, she is not exactly happy.(AKA the AU I shouldn't have written but just seemed to happen where mostly everyone is human - BUT NOT FOR LONG)





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so I have had this whole thing written out, from beginning to end, for months now (and also a completely finished sequel that might actually be longer than this is) and I don't know how it happened, it just did
> 
> So, slight overview for anyone who might get a little confused:  
> Lydia Martin + Natalie Martin = hunters  
> Stiles Stilinski + the Sheriff = werewolves  
> Allison Argent = human turned werewolf  
> Scott McCall = human who will eventually be trained under Deaton for magic purposes  
> the Hales = the town's most human family, who own a diner because I just wanted that to be a thing  
> Kate Argent = the alpha who can't stop biting people  
> Erica Reyes = will eventually become a banshee at some point
> 
> everything else will be revealed later on probably  
> if there's any confusion hit me up with a message because I probably won't even make sense to myself

_Look like the innocent flower but be the serpent under it_

Lydia Martin is the most reluctant teen supernatural hunter ever. At the same time, she's also the best. Her mom approaches her on her fifteenth birthday and tells her that everything she's ever feared - werewolves, vampires, monsters, witches - are all real. And a very real threat.

Turns out the Martin family comes from a long line of hunters, all more fearsome and powerful than the last. 'Martin' is a name that all hunters trust; a name makes the monsters want to hide under their covers. Lydia's mom (her dad has been AWOL since forever) doesn't look like the kind of person who could decapitate a vampire with a piece of uncooked pasta, but she assures Lydia that she is, and Lydia believes her. One time, for her seventh birthday, her mom had taken her shooting and had hit all the moving targets without even blinking.

Lydia has a different method of taking out her targets. Yes, she is a boss with a gun, and a crossbow, and a bow and arrow, and practically any other weapon ever invented, but she doesn't like physically getting blood on her hands. She's always been beautiful, and finds it easy to manipulate people, so she just uses it on a larger level until she has the monsters tripping over themselves to please her. That's usually when she manages to slip wolfsbane or mountain ash or vervain into her victim's drink, and then they literally fall at her feet. Only, this time, they're no longer a nuisance.

Their motto is: 'we protect the innocent from those who would harm them'. The Martin family had originally been formed on the basis of killing whichever werewolf crossed their path; when it passed to Lydia's mom, however, that all changed. She was more humane, and didn't believe in the collective supernatural evil, only in putting those down who threatened the innocent.

Unfortunately for Lydia, she really can't care less about collective evil, or innocent people. She's never been religious, or superstitious; she believes in science, and that's what she wants to believe in. That's what she wants to focus on, and she certainly does not want a life-long career in chasing down the bad guys.

So when her mom announces, just after she's turned seventeen, that they're moving to Beacon Hills, which is riddled with werewolf history and mythology, in an attempt to help Lydia become more associated with her fate, she is not exactly happy.

"There's been an attack," her mom explains. "Nothing too extreme; it might not even be anything, but we need to make sure. Nip it in the bud and all that. That's why they need us; it's a matter of delicacy, and we need to be subtle and level-headed about this. We can't have the Winchesters bursting in and disrupting everything when nothing's wrong. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to meet new people and become more associated with the hunter world. But we are needed; Beacon Hills can't afford another werewolf outbreak."

Exactly why, Lydia's mom doesn't specify, and she doesn't elaborate on the other apparent werewolf outbreak, so Lydia's left to speculate as she observes her new home town. It's not exactly beautiful; there's a massive preserve, but most of that is private property, so it's not open to the public. The only other thing going for it is a diner called _Hales_ , owned by a large, local family, which Lydia scopes out as they drive past it on their way into town.

Their new house is large, and there’s a swimming pool out back, but it doesn’t compensate for the beautiful sea view Lydia had back home. It backs right out into the woods, which is a little creepy, but her mom assures her it’s a prime spot to practice sparring.

Lydia settles in her new room and stares out of her window at the woods. She swears she sees something shifting in there, but she ignores it and draws her curtains firmly shut before going to bed.


	2. Allison's Day Gets Worse and Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allison Argent thinks that getting bitten by a werewolf was the worst part of her week - her two best friends are about to prove her wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW: this work was inspired by a tumblr gifset which i will eventually find and credit - when i find it
> 
> if anyone finds it before me, please let me know

“Ally, we can’t just ignore it!” Stiles insists in a low voice as they clamber out of his old Jeep.

“We _can_ ,” Allison says brightly, devoutly looking anywhere but at him and striding towards the school rather defiantly. “And we will.”

“Stiles is right,” Scott says quietly, struggling to keep up between the two of them. “It might be serious.”

Allison ignores them for a grand total of ten minutes while she locates her locker, fiddles with it until it opens and stores her books. She draws out the silence as she re-arranges her jacket, re-applies her lipstick; all the while, Scott and Stiles stand by her, neither looking like they’re going to move any time soon. Finally, she sighs.

“I get that it’s serious," Allison insists. "I do. But I just want to focus on being a normal human being for now.”

“That’s gonna be hard for you,” Stiles jokes, already back in his comfort zone. “In all seriousness, it’s not something we can ignore. If you just let me tell my dad…”

Allison chews on the inside of her cheek as she debates his point. Then she nods. “Fine. Okay. I could use all the help I can get. But let me have today to pretend to be normal.

The two boys reluctantly agree; with that settled, Scott and Stiles leave her to find their own lockers. As Allison shuts her own, she comes face-to-face with a girl she’s never seen before. She has long, red hair and the clothes she wears are of the height of fashion. She’s currently observing her reflection in the mirror on her locker door. Allison gives her a moment before clearing her throat. The girl looks around, one perfect eyebrow raised.

“Hi!” Allison says. “I’m Allison. Are you new here?”

The girl nods. “My name’s Lydia Martin. Do you think you could point me to the principal’s office?”

Allison, eager as always, beams as she answers, “Of course! I’ll take you there myself.”

On their way over, Allison acts the preppy student and asks Lydia questions about herself. She learns that Lydia used to live by the coast, that she doesn’t see her dad, and she lives only with her mom. Their reason for moving remains a mystery. She’s also super clever, because all of her classes are AP, but she doesn’t act it. Finally, they reach the principal’s office, and Allison lets her go.

“I’ll see you in English!” she announces. “Oh, and there’s lacrosse practice after school, if you want to go watch it? I always sit on the bleachers, because my best friends are on the team, so you can sit with me. Well, I say on the team - Stiles could get there but he just doesn't try, and Scott's asthma means he can't really play, but they like to pretend they can."

Lydia’s tight smile says that she couldn’t possibly think of anything worse, but she nods all the same. “I’ll be there.”

“There’s also a start-of-year party at Jackson Whittemore’s house this Friday,” Allison continues. “Just so you’re aware. I bet you’ll get invited to it by him anyway.”

Allison leaves her behind, hoping that she won’t get dragged into showing Lydia around like she does with every other new student in school. She’s known as the ‘nice girl' by all the teachers, so she usually gets stuck with the projects the teachers can’t be bothered with. And Lydia, although she doesn't seem too bad, also appears to be the opposite of the kind of person that Allison usually likes to hang around with; she seems a little shallow, vain, and kind of fake. The most Scott and Stiles ever pretend is when they like to think they’re good at lacrosse.

As she approaches her locker again, Allison’s side suddenly itches, and her fingers absently trace the marks that should be on her stomach. Being attacked in the woods by a wolf usually means a lot more blood, and a lot more stitches. But, despite having been attacked by a wolf in the woods the night before, her side is completely bare of any kind of mark. Stiles walks over to her.

“It’s hurting again, right?” he guesses. Stiles is usually perceptive about this kind of thing.

Allison shakes her head. “It’s not hurting at all, which is the problem. There’s no mark or anything. It’s messed up, and I don’t see how you can take this so calmly.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “We’ve been through this,” he says in an exaggeratedly tired voice, looking to Scott for support as he wanders over. Scott just shrugs and refuses to get involved. “You were bitten by a werewolf, so of course the mark vanished. It means you're turning into one. If it hadn't disappeared, you would be dead right now, so maybe we should be a little grateful."

Allison rests her head on her locker door and tries not to think about how crazy her life is. She’s known about the existence of werewolves since Stiles’ seventh birthday party, where he got scared of the clown and decided to scare _it_ – with claws and fangs and everything. Thankfully, only Allison and Scott had seen, and they had been let in on the secret as long as they swore not to tell anyone else.

“I don’t want to be a werewolf,” Allison groans.

“Good job they’re not real, then,” an annoyingly familiar voice teases. They all face Jackson Whittemore, the most popular boy in school, with matching looks of annoyance. It doesn’t help that he’s still sporting his sunglasses, and the keys to his Porsche dangle from his fingers. Jackson's always been the arrogant, vain type to flash around his cash; Allison thinks, vaguely, that Lydia is probably exactly his type.

“Go away, Jackson,” Stiles says. “I thought socialising with us freaks was too much for your reputation?”

Jackson eyes them all with disinterest. “This isn’t socialising. _This_ -" he gestures to himself, and then to the rest of them. "-is bullying.”

“Well, it doesn’t hurt any of us anymore, so it isn’t classed as bullying,” Allison points out rather flippantly. “It just means you need to get a life.”

Jackson places a hand over his heart as though wounded, then sees his best friend, Danny, enter the school and begins to move away from them. “You hurt my feelings, Allison. Really.”

Allison rolls her eyes and mutters something rather unsavoury under her breath. Once Jackson has gone, she looks at Stiles again. “Look, I know what happened. I know that last night, when you took us into the woods to look for that dead body, a werewolf bit me and left me for dead. And I know that, because the bite’s healed, I’m going to turn into a werewolf. Like you. I know this. I get it. But I don’t like it, and I sure as hell don't want it."

She leaves them by her locker, both gaping after her. Allison brushes a hand across her face and tries to stem tears as she powers down the corridor to her first lesson. The bell rings seconds later, so she slips easily into the classroom and hides her face from everyone as they pile in. She can feel the alarmed looks Scott and Stiles are both sending her, but she refuses to look up. She doesn't want their pity. She just wants everything to go back to normal.

"Class, this is our new student," the teacher suddenly announces, and Allison perks up to watch Lydia Martin stride into the room. A grand total of four jaws drop open at the sight of her long, red hair and perfect body/face. Stiles and Jackson are two of them. "Lydia Martin. She's moving her from San Francisco. I hope you'll all make her feel very welcome."

Lydia's lips quirk up into a forced smile and then she walks the distance from the front of the room to her new desk like it's a catwalk, not a school classroom. Stiles' eager eyes follow her progress, and it's only when Scott jabs him in the side that he finally tears his attention away from her.

For some reason, this whole scene makes Allison's mood worsen and she sinks deep into her chair in an attempt to just make herself disappear.


	3. The World's Worst Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High school parties? No thanks

The rest of the week is almost entirely uneventful. Allison knows that her body should be reacting. Stiles follows her around everywhere and rattles off all the symptoms she should be facing.

"Generally awful mood swings, the urge to murder anyone who angers you, the urge to strip off and run in the woods," he lists as they drive to the party that Friday. They're crowded onto the front seat of Stiles' Jeep, and Stiles refuses to give up talking about it, despite the numerous times both Allison and Scott have told him to shut up. "Oh, and sometimes we get this thing caught in our throat - like pizza you haven't swallowed right - but it's just a howl, and sometimes you just need to-"

"Stiles," Scott warns, noting the way that Allison has her head resting against the window and her eyes closed tight. "The reason we decided to go to the party tonight was so that we could forget about this for one night. Can you please just let it go?"

Stiles finally shuts up. Scott tries to catch Allison's eye to give her a comforting smile, but she's refusing to open her eyes. He sighs and focuses on Stiles' driving as they pull up to Jackson's house. There are cars crowding the entire street, blocking drives and parked haphazardly across the front lawn of Jackson's house. It can't be more than an hour until the cops are called, Scott reasons, which is enough time for them to get in, be seen, and then leave. It's a full moon and all three of them are on edge; the quicker they leave, the safer they'll be.

Allison climbs out of the Jeep as soon as they arrive and slams the door behind her, mumbling something about needing the bathroom before striding off without them. Scott and Stiles exchange worried glances before following quickly after her.

The party's already been on for at least two hours, so the music is blaring and there is an awful lot of litter scattered on the furniture. Scott spots Jackson in the corner, talking animatedly to a couple of his lacrosse buddies while periodically glaring at the rubbish everywhere. If there's anything Jackson likes less than being disliked, it's people messing up his stuff.

Stiles immediately heads for the drinks. He picks one up for Scott, as he always does, but doesn't take one for himself. He never drinks on the full moon; it's way too risky, even though it technically doesn't affect werewolves. Scott doesn't really drink anyway, but there's something about the physical act of holding the cup that makes him feel like he sort of belongs.

Ten minutes into their appearance, Stiles' mouth drops open. Scott doesn't even need to check to see who it is that's just walked through the door; it's obviously going to be Lydia Martin.

Sure enough, she stalks towards the two of them barely seconds later. She looks surprisingly out of place; although she's wearing a short skirt and pretty shirt, she's twisting her fingers together as if she's uncomfortable, even though all of Scott's observations of her throughout the week would have suggested that she would be in her element at a party like this.

"You're Allison's friends, right?" Lydia says once she's finally in earshot.

Stiles looks as though he's about to combust from the attention he's receiving, so Scott takes over. "Yeah. Scott and Stiles."

Lydia nods absently. "Cool. Is she here?"

"Yeah, she just had to go to the bathroom," Scott explains.

Lydia looks actually disappointed, although from what Scott knows, she's never spoken one word to Allison. She doesn't say anything else, just waves a little at them as she walks away.

"Weird," Scott frowns. Stiles is still to starstruck to say anything.

* * *

 

Lydia hates high school parties. _Hates_ them. With a passion. She'd only agreed to come in the first place because Jackson had invited her face to face, and even though he seemed like a total douchebag, he was kind of cute and totally her type. But as soon as she turns her car onto the crowded street and sees the amount of people spilling into and out of the house, she immediately regrets ever deciding to come. In the past week, Lydia has made no new friends and doesn't particularly want to. She refuses to get to know anyone, probably in an attempt to defy her mother, who wants this to be a permenant move. Beacon Hills, from what she can tell, is a little creepy and a little boring; a combination which just doesn't do it for Lydia.

But she's here now, so she steels herself and flounces through the front door with as much energy as she can muster. There's a lot of people, which means she can probably just be seen by Jackson and then leave after five minutes, which is her usual style when it comes to parties. She just needs to find someone to stand with while she waits to be spotted by Jackson.

The first person to come to mind is Allison Argent, the girl who Lydia had practically ordered to lead her to the office on her first day. Lydia had admired the way that Allison had not-so-subtly hidden her disdain for Lydia behind fake smiles. If Lydia had been any less perceptive, she probably would just have dismissed Allison as over-bubbly. As it was, Lydia was very clever, and had also been trained as a supernatural hunter, so she was intensely perceptive. Still, Allison's attitude had been the kind of thing that Lydia had felt automatically drawn to, and so she's the only person that Lydia feels like hanging around.

Unfortunately, she's nowhere to be seen.

Lydia eventually has to stoop as low as to approach Allison's two strange friends whose names she doesn't know. All she knows is that one of them is geuinely the nicest person she's ever been in the vicinity of, and that the other is weirdly enamoured with her. Even as she approaches him now, he seems to be sweating from her mere presence. Lydia decides to ignore him and faces the nice one.

"You're Allison's friends, right?"

The nice one smiles at her. "Yeah." Then, as if she cares, he adds, "Scott and Stiles."

Lydia nods absently, searching the party for any signs of her only sort-of friend. "Cool. Is she here?"

The nice one - Scott? It's only been about two seconds, and she can't remember either of their names - says, "Yeah, she just had to go to the bathroom."

Lydia's heart sinks. What's she supposed to do while Allison's away? She can't exactly stand with Mr Nice and the weirdo; her reputation would be ruined in an instant. So she decides to find Jackson herself and get out of here as soon as she can. Without saying another word, she gives them both a little wave and moves through the crowd. As she does, she accidentally walks right into someone and almost pushes them over.

"Sorry!" Lydia exclaims, and looks into the face of the person she just nearly assulted.

It's Allison. Except she looks really unwell. Her face is pasty and there's sweat beading on her forehead. She has her hands screwed tightly into the sleeves of her jumper and she refuses to look Lydia in the eye.

"Hey," Lydia says gently, reaching out a hand to take her arm. "You don't look so good. Do you want to get some air?"

Allison jerks her head into what Lydia assumes is a nod, so she's about to gently lead Allison away when Mr Nice and the weirdo come bursting over.

"Sorry," the weirdo blurts out, having gained some confidence from some unknown place. "We need to leave. Allison's not feeling well."

"Wow, she's really not," Mr Nice adds rather unhelpfully. He turns to the weirdo. "Stiles, we need to get her to your dad. Now."

Stiles nods and goes to lead them away, but Lydia stops them. Her hunter instinct is telling her that something about this situation is off. She needs to find out what it is, before anyone gets hurt. "Wait," she interrupts them. "I think she just needs some fresh air and some water."

"No," Stiles says emphatically, clearly getting a little over-stressed. "What she needs is medical attention. Specifically from my dad."

"Your dad's the Sheriff," Lydia says tartly. She might not like this town, but she's made it her business to know who all the key players are. The Sheriff with the unusually high rate of solving crimes is definitely one of them, and it's not a giant leap to assume that 'Stiles' is Sheriff Stilinski's kid. Their silence tells her she's right. "I could probably do a better job with first aid. Either that, or she needs an ambulance. Either way, she needs immediate attention."

"Yes, she does," Stiles agrees rather aggressively. "From my dad."

"Stiles," Mr Nice says warningly, then turns to Lydia. "I'm sorry about him. My mom's a nurse, and she's taught Stiles' dad a few things over the years. He gets into a lot of scrapes, as a Sheriff. He can take care of Allison."

Lydia lets them leave this time, but there's still an awful feeling in her stomach, like something's about to go wrong. It must be a full moon, she reasons. Her mom is always on edge on them, so she must just be becoming suspicious like her dear mother. Still, Mr Nice was definitely lying to her; the kind of medical attention the Sheriff would know, if anything, would be about stitching wounds or applying antisceptic cream. Allison had clearly been developing some kind of severe fever, which was not the same thing.

"You're over-thinking things, Lydia," she whispers harshly to herself. The loud noise of the sound system drowns her voice out, so she doesn't sound as loony as she really must be.

Still feeling extremely uncomfortable, Lydia decides to leave.There's no point in her staying, and she needs to rest her over-reactive imagination. She knows what's happening; her mother's paranoid ways are getting to her, and she's trying to imagine a werewolf in everyone she meets, which is not how she wants to live her life.

With her mind made up, Lydia leaves the party, completely forgetting that she hasn't seen Jackson all night.


	4. The Stilinski House

Stiles drives insanely fast, while Scott ignores Allison's claws and holds her tight to him, in a pathetic attempt to stop her from shifting. The woods flicker on either side of them, the moon just visible between each individual branch.

"Stiles," Scott says warningly as a low growl begins in Allison's throat and she begins to wriggle to get out of his arms.

"I'm trying, Scott!" Stiles yells.

"Stiles, I was just going to say that I don't think it's a good idea if you drive," Scott says. Stiles looks over to him, confused. "The full moon's clearly getting to you, and you'd be better talking to Allison. I have no idea what to say."

Stiles nods at his reasoning and slows the Jeep to a halt. He hops out, runs to the passenger door, and carefully extracts Allison, being sure to keep a tight grip on her. Scott slides over into the driver's seat and Stiles and Allison both climb back inside. Scott slams his foot on the accelerator and they surge forwards again, while Stiles whispers three words over and over to Allison: "The sun, the moon, the truth". Scott's never understood the mantra himself (Stiles had once tried to explain it to him; something about keeping control) so he keeps his mouth shut and tries to focus on driving.

He makes a sharp right turn into the woods. Stiles' house is right in the middle of the preserve; it's an old family house, dating back hundreds of years. And it's practically just a shell, because almost sixteen years ago, at about the time that Stiles was born, hunters had tried to kill the entirety of his family of werewolves in one fell swoop. Only Stiles and his dad had survived.

The only part of the house that's survived is the completely concrete basement, which the Sheriff and Stiles had been lucky enough to be in at the time of the fire. It's since been converted into a comfier living space while they try to find somewhere less haunted to live, but they don't try that hard to find something; Scott knows they both have a strong emotional attachment to the house and don't want to leave it.

The Sheriff is there before they stop the car, rushing to help Allison out. They'd told him a couple of days ago, what had happened, but Allison had been in serious denial and refused any help at the time. Now that she needs all the help she can get, she goes along complacently.

"What's going to happen to her?" Scott asks, worriedly, as they walk through the burnt remnants of the old house and come to the basement stairs, descending quickly.

There's a door directly at the bottom of the stairs, that pushes into their living area, and the Sheriff pauses by here as he attempts to unlock it.

"She's going to turn," Stiles says, simply. "We can't do anything about it other than let her; she needs to learn control now, or it'll get extremely hard on her. But we need to let her turn first, before she can control it."

They all head straight for the opposite side of the room, where another door stands, but this time it's made of wood. Mountainash, Scott knows, and he's the only person out of them who can open it. Allison had been able to, before, but it's like poison to werewolves. Only humans can really open it. Scott forces the door open quickly and Stiles' dad and Allison pour inside. Scott slams the door after them, as he has done numerous times before on full moons when Stiles had had less control. This time, he doesn't have Allison to talk to while they wait; this time, he and Stiles are alone together.

They collapse, side by side, on a sofa that faces a large-screen TV. Scott considers switching it on, to mask Allison's yelps and screams, but Stiles seems to be attempting to focus, too, so he decides another distraction won't help anything.

"What keeps you grounded?" Scott asks, genuinely curious. "Why don't you turn anymore?"

"I do turn," Stiles says quietly. "Just not like I used to. And I never do it around other people; only when I know the preserve's empty, because then I can just let go. As for what keeps me grounded... my dad calls it an anchor; something you think of to keep you from turning. It could be anger, happiness, hatred or love. Whatever. If it's strong enough, it'll force you to keep that human side of you."

Scott thinks about this for a while. "So, what's your's?"

Stiles shoots him a look like he can't believe Scott can't work it out. After a few more moments, when Scott is clerly getting no closer, Stiles sighs. "It's you, dumbass."

"Really?" Scott asks, genuinely shocked.

"Well duh," Stiles rolls his eyes. "You've been my best friend since forever; you're like my brother."

Scott frowns. "What about Allison?"

Stiles shrugs. "I've known you longer," he explains simply. "I love Allison, but we're definitely closer."

Scott wonders what his own anchor would be - Stiles or Allison? He's known Stiles for longer, but Allison... she's different. He doesn't know what it is, but she just is. Maybe, if the situation ever arose and Scott was a werewolf, both of them would be his anchor.

"Are we going to stay here all night?" Scott asks, to interrupt his own thoughts.

Stiles nods and snuggles further into the sofa. "Yes, Scott, we are. My dad's got Allison handled - we just need to sleep."

But Scott can't, and he knows Stiles can't either, but he lets him pretend. The night wears on, Allison's yells lessen a little and the clock on the wall inches closer to morning. But Scott still can't sleep. He turns to face Stiles, who isn't even pretending  to sleep anymore. He's lying awake on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"What's keeping you awake?" Stiles whispers into the sudden calm. Allison can't be heard anymore.

"Lydia," Scott admits, and Stiles cocks an eyebrow. "Not like that. She was way too over-protective over Allison, who she's barely even met."

"She was acting very suspicious," Stiles agrees. "Sort of like she didn't believe us."

Scott snorts. " _I_ didn't believe us. We're terrible liars."

Stiles laughs. "True. I don't think there's anything suspicious about Lydia."

"That's because you think she's hot," Scott points out. "All I keep coming back to is the fact that she moved here at the same time that Allison was bitten, and she didn't want to let Allison out of her sight last night. That can't be a coincidence."

Stiles shrugs and closes his eyes again. "Whatever. We'll figure it out tomorrow. Night Scotty."

Reluctantly, Scott closes his eyes as well. "Night."


	5. All Bus Drivers Go To Heaven

Lydia hangs up her phone with a huff and stops her car outside the school gates. Her mom had rung her as soon as she left the party, telling her that there had been a disturbance at the school.

"It's probably nothing," her mom had assured her. "But, like I keep telling you, we need to stop anything small here before it gets out of control."

Lydia has had the night from hell and she is not happy. First the party, then Allison and her shifty friends. To top the entire night off, it starts raining just as she climbs out of her car. Plus, separating her from the car park (where the disturbance was reported) is a large, chain fence, which is insurmountable, especially for a girl of Lydia's height. And it's padlocked.

"I hate my life," Lydia grumbles to herself, and then walks around to the trunk of her car, where her arsenal is hidden. She selects a rather large pair of pliers and hides them in a hoodie pocket, which she slides on over her now-wet party outfit. She changes her heels for sneakers and then hides daggers and a handgun up her sleeves. She knows from experience that she can never be too careful.

Lydia marches towards the fence and slices the padlock in half in seconds. She slips through the fence and tiptoes carefully across to hide behind the first vehicle she sees. It's the headteacher's, she knows, and he's thankfully not in it. Hopefully he has nothing to do with the disturbance; Lydia's had to take out a teacher once before, and it hadn't ended well.

She notices the problem from her spot crouched by the car, despite the deluge. One of the school buses has blood splattered across its windows on the inside. It wasn't just anything, then. Lydia takes a deep, calming breath before quickly running the distance to the bus. All she needs to do is see what's happened, and if she needs to help. If someone's dead, there's nothing she can do but get out of there and not get caught.

Lydia checks to make sure no one's around before standing on her tiptoes and peering through the windows. It's disgusting on the inside. She's seen many dead bodies before, but this is the worst she's seen. The person is unrecognisable now, their face practically obliterated by claws, but Lydia can just about make out the uniform the man was wearing. He must have been the bus driver.

There's nothing she can do, and no sign of anything else, so Lydia sprints back to her car. She dumps the weapons and pliers back into her trunk before driving off. As she does, she swears she sees someone lingering in the parking lot, but when she looks again, they're gone.


	6. Chapter 6

"Yes, mom," Allison says on the phone, rolling her eyes at Scott, who grins at her discomfort. "I'm fine. I'm sorry I didn't let you know, but I felt awful at the party, so Stiles took me back to his. We're literally pulling into the drive right now."

Stiles parks his Jeep on the pavement outside the Argent's house. They can see Mrs Argent, glaring at them from the living room window.

"Maybe this is a bad idea," Stiles says when Allison hangs up, eyeing Victoria Argent with trepidation. "Your mom looks like she wants to kill us both, and I don't want to leave you after your first full moon. It just doesn't feel right."

Allison does look awful - her hair is ratty and her eyes are rimmed with red, and she looks very small swamped in one of Stiles' jackets - but she shrugs and jumps out of the car. "I'm fine, guys. I'll explain everything to my mom."

"Not... everything, right?" Stiles asks, clearly alarmed.

Allison rolls her eyes. "No, not everything. Don't worry, Stiles. I'll ring you after she's shouted at me for being a terrible daughter."

Allison slams her door, waves and then treks up the driveway. She knows that she's in for a major grilling, not just from her mom but probably her dad as well, and that makes her want to run back to the Jeep. But Stiles and Scott are already gone. There's only one option left.

Her mom swings the door open before Allison can even touch the doorknob.

"You are in a lot of trouble, young lady."

Allison just nods miserably - she's already accepted her fate. She slumps her shoulders and walks dejectedly inside. Her father's stood by the fireplace in the living room, his arms crossed and face dark with anger and slight disappointment. Allison is too weak to even consider getting out of this somehow; her first turn was atrociously painful.

"Allison, where were you last night?" her dad demands before she's even in the room.

Allison collapses on the nearest sofa and says, "Jackson Whittemore's party."

"All night?" her father exclaims, clearly not believing her.

"No, we didn't stay for very long," Allison says truthfully. "I felt really sick, so Stiles took me back to his place to rest for a bit, but I fell asleep and they didn't want to disturb me."

Her father cocks an eyebrow. "And I'm supposed to believe this?"

"Actually, yes," Allison sighs. "The Sheriff was there the whole night. He can vouch for us."

She knows she's won now. Her father is friends with the Sheriff, and will believe anything he says. Mr Argent relaxes a little.

"We're still not happy about this," her mom snaps. "What were you ill with? The flu? Did someone drug you?"

"Mom!"

"Vicky, leave my lovely niece alone."

Allison perks up suddenly at the new voice. Her aunt Kate, who Allison hasn't seen for _years_ , is leaning casually in the doorway, a large grin on her face. Forgetting her ailments, Allison leaps up from the sofa so that she can fling herself into the arms of her aunt.

"Kate! I didn't know you were coming!"

Kate pulls away, grin still there, her ash-blonde hair curled perfectly as always. "I thought I'd come and surprise my favourite niece."

"Don't play that game with me," Allison jokes. "I'm your only niece."

Kate shrugs. "Whatever. Now, what's this I hear about a party?"

That night, they order take out and gather around the kitchen table, eating rubbish and laughing loudly. Allison excuses herself to go to bed early, even though she wants to stay up later, because these times with her family are her favourite. Every problem just seems to melt away. But her body aches all over, and her eyes are closing of their own accord, so she slopes off to her bedroom.

Allison's about to clean her teeth when she notices that there's no toothpaste left in her bathroom. Grumbling to herself, she's about to head downstairs when she hears her parents and Kate talking in hushed tones in the living room. Curious, Allison creeps down the stairs and then along the wall, holding her breath as she listens.

"You've been gone for five years, Kate," her dad's saying aggressively. " _Five_ years. We thought were dead."

Allison balks. Kate had been away for a very long time, but she'd never personally assumed she was dead. She'd only been travelling the world; it wasn't as if she was ever in any kind of danger.

"We knew what you were looking into," Allison's mom whispers. Thanks to Allison's new super-hearing, though, she can hear perfectly well. "Kate, we were trying to find ways to tell Allison that you'd died. We didn't hear from you in so long, we were certain you'd died."

"Thanks for your concern," Kate says a little spitefully. "I was following a lead, and I couldn't exactly give myself away by sending birthday cards."

Allison decides she doesn't want to hear anymore. She wants to go to bed, remembering her family as the one that had just been laughing around junk food, so she tiptoes into the downstairs bathroom, where she grabs a tube of toothpaste and heads back upstairs.

As she's making her way out of her bathroom, Allison glances downstairs to see Kate arguing in the hallway with her parents. Her mom and dad head away to their room soon after, but Kate hangs around a while and walks over to the mirror in the hall. Holding her breath, Allison creeps forward and looks over the bannister.

Kate's admiring her own reflection, which is a little weird. But then something even stranger happens.

In the mirror, Allison can just make out Kate's eyes turning red.


End file.
